Heavy
by brokenbottleaurora
Summary: There are some burdens too heavy for even true love to bear. / "The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, but in ourselves." — William Shakespeare, Julius Caesar


**Warnings:** implications of PTSD; heavy discussion of canonical war and its effects after the fact

**Author's Note: **If you've been following me for any length of time, you know that I don't really care for Harry and Ginny as a couple. I'm pretty sure this is the only way I can write them, so don't get too excited or up in arms about this—it'll probably never happen again.

This is my take on the star-crossed lovers trope (and therefore clearly not canon compliant), but hopefully it's a little different. Harry is probably a little out of character, but then we don't see a lot of his thoughts and feelings in the years immediately following the war. I'm taking advantage of that and making him a bit more emotionally vulnerable with the woman he loves.

Also, I believe that it's not always fate or family or misfortune that keep two people apart. Sometimes it's just that love and determination aren't enough to win against growing apart and poor timing. After all, timing is everything.

* * *

.oOo.

"Why do we go dancing in circles?

When we know it never ends

We come so close to loving each other and then

We go dancing in circles again"

— Love and Theft, "Dancing in Circles"

.oOo.

Harry sank onto the bed as he heard the bathroom door slam. Ginny was angry at something he'd said as they were leaving the Ministry, but that was nothing new. He'd done pretty much nothing but alternately enrage her and make her cry for the last six months. He loosened his tie and hung it over the headboard before sending the rest of his suit toward the clothes hamper; he missed, as always.

Ginny stalked out of the bathroom, in pajamas instead of her ball gown, and shot him a disgusted look as she picked his clothes up and moved them to the hamper. She crawled into bed, facing away from him.

"I'm sorry, Gin," Harry sighed. It was becoming his catchphrase as of late.

Her whole body tensed. She sat up and opened her mouth to retort, but a moment later she fell back into her pillow like a marionette whose strings had been cut. "It's not even really your fault. The Memorial Ball was stressful, and I'm taking it out on you. Though I really didn't appreciate the comment you made to Hermione about my shoes."

"I just don't get why you wear them if you know they're going to hurt that much," he muttered.

"Because they're _pretty_!" she cried. "I wanted to look pretty for _you_!"

He reached out and smoothed a hand over her hair. Her earlier updo had been pretty, but he preferred it loose like this. "Gin, I always think you're beautiful. Don't wear those kinds of shoes on my account. I don't want you to be in pain because of me."

"I know," she said, leaning into his hand. "Though I think I'm having a case of déjà vu—didn't you say basically the same thing when you broke up with me after Dumbledore's funeral?"

"You know I was just concerned for your safety," he promised for the thousandth time.

She smiled sadly. "I always thought it was less of a breakup and more that you were letting me down easy so you could run off and save the world without any distractions."

"Whether I was technically dating you or not, you were never far from my mind." Harry shook his head at her. "Must I tell you again how obsessively I watched your dot on the Map?"

"I know, but sometimes I still can't help wondering if you _really _only left me because you were afraid for my life," she murmured. She paused and shot him an odd glance. "You're awfully chatty tonight. I don't usually get Emotional Harry."

He dropped his head back against the wall and took a deep, grounding breath. When he met Ginny's eyes again, a look of recognition flashed across her face, and any sign of her former ire melted away. As difficult as the second of May was for other people, everyone knew it hit Harry like a knockout punch, ripping the scabs off all his old wounds. Last year, on the first anniversary of the final battle, he'd left the Ball just after the opening speeches and run home to drown himself in firewhiskey. Having Ginny at his side had made this year better, but only marginally.

Harry pointedly ignored her piteous gaze and focused on the piece of her statement he was more comfortable addressing. "If I had any other motive, it was a desperate hope that you wouldn't become any more attached to me for your own sake."

Ginny sighed. "As if I could have. I had everything I'd ever wanted—I was finally dating the boy I'd been in love with since I was nine, who'd saved my life on several occasions, and I really believed he was already on his way to loving me back."

"I _did _love you," he promised. "I wanted nothing more than to be with you, but the timing was so, _so_ wrong. I was convinced I was going to _die_, Gin. I hoped you would change your mind. Maybe you would get over me and fall in love with someone safe and normal and good for you—someone who was everything I wasn't."

"Well, you got part of your wish. I changed a lot that year," she said. "I think we both did."

"And we just keep changing," he sighed. "I just… I feel like you grew so much as a person during the war, and I… All the worst parts of me got magnified."

And that was the crux of so many problems they had as a couple. In that last year of the war, she'd helped cultivate and lead an incredible resistance against the Carrows. The already confident witch had shouldered that responsibility with poise and tenacity, and those trapped at Hogwarts had come to respect Ginny as much as they did Harry. All Harry felt he'd managed to add to his souvenir trauma was a greater recklessness and an even deeper paranoia. Even now, as Ginny continued to flourish, Harry struggled to pull himself out of his downward spiral. The year apart had created the ever-expanding chasm between them, and the strain it placed on their relationship grew daily.

Harry scrubbed a hand down his face. "You know what I hate most about these Memorial Balls? They make me think of all the people who should be there 'celebrating.' I _want _to celebrate like everyone else, but all I can think about are the people that died that day instead," he choked out. "People like Colin and Remus and... Fred."

Ginny stiffened at her brother's name, but Harry just kept rambling on.

"And I hate myself for saying it, but I think part of _us_, part of who we could have been as a couple died that day, too. The battle killed the one thing I was holding onto that entire year away. I was counting on our timing to _finally _be right when everything was over," he said. "I wanted to be the one you could lean on as we faced the aftermath of the war together, but after what I did to Fred…"

She was silent for a long moment. "You know as well as I do you didn't kill him or any of our other friends."

"Yet I'm sure I'll always feel like I did. And I know I'll never forgive myself for not being there for you the way I should have in the months after it happened, either," he replied.

"I won't lie, that really hurt," Ginny said, tears filling her eyes. "I could see you were hurting too, over all the pain and destruction you felt like you caused. But as selfish as it sounds, I still wanted you there with me."

Harry swallowed hard. He always stopped the conversation long before it wound up here. Why couldn't he seem to do it this time?

"And I get it," Ginny continued. "We both had a lot of personal crap to work through. But you have to know that's why it took so long for us to get back together. I didn't feel like I could depend on you or even connect with you anymore. And if I'm being honest with myself, it _still _feels like that."

"I can't blame you. You leaned on your family while I just…" Harry trailed off.

"Isolated yourself," Ginny whispered. "And you _keep _doing it. It's made the last six months really hard, you being so closed off. You haven't let anyone behind the walls you've built up, even Hermione and Ron, and you used to share everything with them. I can't help you work through anything if we can't talk about it. Truthfully, I think this is the first time I've ever had a real conversation with you about the war. And it goes the other way too, you know..."

Ginny bit her lip hard and looked away, but Harry didn't have to see her eyes to know the pain there. Sometimes she still tried to come to him for comfort when thoughts of Fred or memories of the Carrows came knocking. He wrapped his arms around her, held her close, and whispered soothing words, but even he knew she derived little comfort from his going through the motions. There could be no solace in stone.

"I _want _to talk about that kind of thing with you," he murmured. "I want to be there for you, to be your shoulder to cry on and your safe place to run to. I want to need you like you need me. I just…"

"I get it, I really do," she sniffled. "But no matter how hard we try, I can't get past the walls you put up. The girl I used to be would have been okay with taking a backseat, with not being someone you truly needed, but now… I don't know what to do with you anymore, Harry. I don't know what to do with _us_."

Harry screwed his eyes shut. "I _want _to open up. I _want _to make this work. I swear I'm trying—I just need more time."

"I know you are," she crooned, reaching out to stroke his cheek. "I want a relationship with you, more than anything in the world, but I need it to be _real_. We both know that can't happen unless you let me in, and I can't keep waiting forever."

Harry opened his mouth to argue, to fight the inevitable, but then something snapped deep inside him. There wasn't anything but truth in what she said. It wasn't fair to either of them to live in limbo. Tears now flowed freely down her face, and it still broke his heart, no matter how many times he'd caused them. He was so tired of causing them...

He tilted her chin up to his face. "I'm going to keep trying. I'll see a Mind Healer, a Muggle therapist, whatever I need to do," he whispered desperately. "I'll never give up."

A pregnant pause stretched on as he prayed for her to say something, anything to save the tattered shreds of their relationship. But when it came to matters of the heart, neither timing nor luck had ever been on Harry Potter's side.

"It's still not enough, is it?"

She sniffed wetly. " We've just got a lot of baggage between us, Harry, and it keeps getting heavier the longer we're together."

He nodded, unable to choke out any other response.

They were silent for several minutes, neither wanting to speak the horrible, irrevocable truth that would surely follow.

"I don't think I can shoulder both of our loads anymore, Harry," Ginny finally whispered. "It's too heavy. I just can't bear that kind of burden."

He swallowed hard. "I don't blame you."

"I still love you."

"I still love you, too."

With a river running down her cheeks, Ginny pushed back the covers and swung her legs over the side of the bed.

Harry's arm shot out and grabbed at her wrist, and she turned to see her pain mirrored on his face.

"I can't stay, Harry. I've got to put some time and distance between us if I'm ever going to get past this—if _we're_ ever going to get past this."

"Don't leave me yet. Stay, just for tonight." He sniffed loudly, and his bottom lip trembled. "Please, Gin."

She threw herself down next to him, and, in a tangle of arms and legs, they cried each other to sleep.

.oOo.

Harry woke late the next morning reached out for Ginny. His arm met only bedsheets, empty and cold. He grabbed his glasses, and his heart sank when he saw the note left on what had been Ginny's pillow.

_My Dear Harry,_

_I would tell you to let me know when your luggage gets a little lighter, but, knowing us, the timing will still be all wrong—and so will we. __Let's save ourselves the heartache and walk away knowing that at least we didn't go down without a fight. _

_No matter where I go, you'll always be my hero, my first love, and my dear friend. I'll see you again someday._

_Love you forever, _

_Gin_

Harry grabbed her pillow and inhaled deeply as the weight in his heart grew almost unbearable. He hoped wherever she was headed would help her feel lighter again. He would keep the heaviness for her.

.oOo.

"The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, but in ourselves."

— William Shakespeare,_ Julius Caesar_

.oOo.

* * *

**Written for the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition**

**Wigtown Wanderers, Seeker**

**Prompt: **Star-Crossed Lovers. Write about a romance that's doomed to fail.

**Word Count: **2107, per GoogleDocs

**MC4A Challenge Block**

**Stacked with:** QLFC; ER; FPC; BAON; TOS; SS; SF

**Individual Challenges: **Short Jog; Gryffindor MC (x2); Witches Coven 2; Quoteth the Bardeth; Tissue Warning; Times to Come; Themes & Things A—Regret; Themes & Things B—Guilt; Themes & Things C—Pillow

**Representations:** Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley; BC Use; Breaking Up and Waking Up; PTSD

**Bonus Challenges: **A Long Dog; Second Verse (Ladylike—Pushy; Not A Lamp; Persistence Still; White Dress; Spinning Plates; Unwanted Advice); Chorus (Pear Shaped; Wabi Sabi; Machismo—Vulnerability)

**Tertiary Bonus Challenges:** Thimble (T3)

**Word Count:** 2107


End file.
